


No Heart in Darkness

by Icie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Kingdom Hearts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8041606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icie/pseuds/Icie
Summary: "Hey, Mister Keyblade Master!"
  Kozume bristles.
  "I'm not—" he begins, then cuts himself off. This guy has been bothering him for days now. His messy hair and black coat turn up every time Kozume spends any length of time in one spot. "Wrong number," he mutters to the ground. 

A Kingdom Hearts AU written for SASO 2016 - Bonus Round 5 (Myths and Lore)





	No Heart in Darkness

"Hey, Mister Keyblade Master!"

Kozume bristles.

"I'm not—" he begins, then cuts himself off. This guy has been bothering him for days now. His messy hair and black coat turn up every time Kozume spends any length of time in one spot. "Wrong number," he mutters to the ground. He doesn't want to deal with this right now – or ever. Scanning the skyline for a likely path, he pushes off, bounding up to the peak of the nearest building.

As he picks his next target, a dark portal rises from the ground. The man steps out of it. "Are you going to make me chase you all day?" he asks. "All week, even." His eyes glitter yellow and his teeth cut white through the darkness of everything else about him.

Kozume diverts his eyes. Then glances back. The man continues to grin.

Kozume takes off. He doesn't know how that portal works, but he's banking on the man not being able to track him through the buildings.

He hears a call of "Kenma!" shouted after him, but he's long gone by the time he processes the word.

Back on the rooftop Kozume left behind, Kuroo shakes his head. "That kid is always trouble," he says to himself, before he opens another portal to swallow him whole.

 

*

 

Unless he's better at hiding than Kozume gives him credit for, the man stays away for a while after that. Kozume spends his respite living as best he can. The town has plenty of jobs going for someone who isn't picky, and right now Kozume isn't. After slapping what feels like hundreds of posters for the local struggle tournament onto bricks and concrete, Kozume finds himself putting his name down to sign up when the burly old man running it asks if he wants to.

Kozume didn't want to, but he straps on the silly ball covered struggle harness and grips tight to the foam struggle bad, which is spongy but can still do damage if it hits somewhere soft with force.

As he faces his first opponent, he starts wondering whether he wants to do this. He's not bad with this kind of weapon, but when he tries to remember how he learned to fight, he can only find a hollow ache where the memories should be. A lot of things are like that with him. It makes him feel sick inside.

His opponent stands with an almost comically wide stance, his knees bent and his bat held wide. His arms are long enough that Kozume wonders if his ancestry contains a monkey or two.

 _He_ goes down easily. His eyes widen in shock as Kozume slips under his arms and smacks his bat against his chest. The small crowd that gathered to watch cheers as Kozume gathers up the last of the balls with an awkward roll.

The next match is harder, but Kozume comes out the winner.

His third match brings with it a renewed sense of being hunted. A kid who runs with one of the less friendly bunches of teenagers stands facing him, a hat pulled low over their face. As they begin to trade blows, the kid presses harder, and lands hits with more fervour than anyone. Kozume tries to object, but either they don't hear, or they don't care. He fights to keep his bat between him and his opponent, jumping back and out of the way.

Kozume strikes them on the temple. As they crumple, he looks wildly around, ready to defend himself to say that he didn't have another choice, but the crowd is frozen in place. A crackle rises from within his opponent's clothes, an odd popping kind of a sound, followed by a swish as one of the creatures that have been stalking him slips out from under the layers of fabric.

These creatures make his skin crawl. Their white bodies that never seem to have the substance to back up the space they fill. They're writhing things with joints that twist out of place as they lope along like they've only heard of the concept of gravity, rather than having it apply to them. He steps back, to place some distance between him and it. 

It slips off to one side. He rolls out of the way, glancing around for an escape path. A shimmering field keeps him trapped within the Struggle arena, and the motionless crowd remains frozen in silent cheers.

"Wow, wow, wow!" comes a dry call from behind the rows of people, revealing itself to belong to his golden eyed stalker as he scooches between members of the crowd and jumps into the ring, passing through the barrier without a care. "Looks like you're in a fight, Kenma. How do you feel?"

He swings his bat out to scare the creature from approaching, but it whips around him and stings him in the middle of his back. A jolt like electricity makes him gasp. He doesn't reply to the man in the coat.

"Silent treatment, huh?" The man shakes his head. "Last I knew, you had better manners than this." 

"You don't," Kozume pants, bringing his bat up, "know me!"

He pushes forward and swings his bat. Once again the creature twists out of the way, and he connects with nothing but air. He uses his momentum to swing around, growing more agitated by the second.

"Temper, Kenma," the man says, tutting. A flash of irritation takes over Kozume's face before he can press it back down. The man laughs. "Yeah, you've got it. Can't pretend to have emotions now. Not polite."

"Shut up," Kozume says, throwing himself at the creature as it wavers nearer.

The man summons his own weapons as Kozume once again tries to land a blow. "C'mon, Kenma. Leave it alone. You've got a better chance of getting your keyblade up if you hit something worth fighting, not some low level nobody."

He means himself, and he doesn't wait for Kenma's reply before shooting forward, weapons igniting and sending flames crawling up the arms of his coat.

He catches the spikes on his keyblade. One second, he was holding the struggle bat, the next, he has a hand on the grip and his other bracing the blade so the man's weapons don't shred him to pieces. He feels like someone yanked the bottom off his energy. Something flashes across the man's eyes, and he steps back. For once, he isn't grinning.

"Knew you still had it in you, Kenma."

"It's Kozume," he replies.

"Sure thing, buddy."

The man disappears back through the crowd, which regains animation, their cheers fading into confusion before redoubling, and the referee pulls his hand up as the victor. His original opponent lies unconscious on the floor of the ring, no evidence of the creature to be found.

*

Weeks later, Kozume is tipping a drink down his throat when he realises he has company. The past weeks have gone by peacefully. No guys in coats. No creatures with black and white lightning stinging him. He takes his time as he wipes his mouth and screws the lid back on the top of the bottle. If the man wants to talk to him, he can go ahead. He doesn't need Kozume encouraging him.

"You've been making yourself quite at home here," the man says, breaking the silence and sitting down beside Kozume. He stiffens and the man laughs, an irritating thing that grates on Kozume's ears. "Relax," he draws out the last syllable like he's pulling a bow over violin strings, "I'm not gonna chase you." His eyes shift to meet Kozume's. Kozume breaks eye contact in favour of the bricks that make up the ground. "Not unless you want me to. Not this time."

Kozume can feel his grin persisting even with Kozume refusing to look at him.

The guy sighs, followed by a clink of metal. A glance tells Kozume that it was the guy setting aside his weapons, those circular, bladed things. Without their fire they look like wheels ripped off a hell chariot. "Look, kid. I'm not going to force you into anything. But the way I figure it, you need me." He pauses, laughs. "Us, I suppose. But mostly me."

Kozume casts an eye in his direction. The guy is awfully full of himself.

He laughs again. "Don't give me that, I know what I'm talking about." He adjusts his position, stretching out further. He's as tall and lanky as it's possible to be without looking utterly ridiculous. (A limit Kozume knows from being well acquainted with someone on the other side of that line.) "We want the same things as you do – the organisation, that is. Suppose I should have told you that first, huh? Organisation Thirteen." He shakes his head. "Some name, right?" He continues without giving Kozume a chance to weigh in, raising his hand to touch his chest, just to the left. "We're looking for hearts. A way to get ours back – don't got 'em, see – and, hate to be the one to break bad news, but you don't either."

Kozume's expression twists into a frown, and he glares at the crack between two bricks where moss has taken hold. "I know," he says, just loud enough for the guy to hear.

"He speaks! I was starting to think you'd gone mute." The guy slings an arm around Kozume's shoulder. "Hey," he says, as he inspects Kozume's expression, "it's not so bad. No heart means no tears."

Kozume makes a point not to move, but his hand clenches into a fist on its own. Sometimes he thinks he's someone else, and who he is right now is only temporary, that who he really is is someone who gets angry, and has feelings. He supposes who he really is has a heart.

"I'm Kuroo," the guy says. "Don't forget it."

Somehow Kozume thinks that Kuroo has been forgotten plenty of times before. Which means he can't have too many expectations for Kozume.

"Kuroo," Kozume repeats. Then: "Kuro," because it fits better on his tongue.

Kuroo laughs. "Whatever, kid. Just don't forget."

Kozume nods as Kuroo stands and opens a portal. Kuroo jerks his head towards it, a clearer _you coming?_ than if he'd asked aloud. Kozume sighs, and stands. He supposes it's inevitable, really.

"Atta boy," Kuroo says, and follows him into the darkness.


End file.
